Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1887-03-13
The sun went down, the shadows, deepen
ed over the lonely State Line turnpike.
Horse and rider lay there still in the road.
CHAPTER VII.
FATHER AND DAUGHTER.

within her. She was only IL. She was
very strong. Her ancestors on her fathers
side Of the house had lived TO be 100 years
old, some of them. She was like her IA
TIERS side of the house. Would she live
TO be 100 Yeas old and have to keep on
facing SORROWS and diSappOintments like
this all the time? Then life was serious
business.
SHIRLEY! Shirley! Where are you?
Come up to the house, quick"
1t vas her brother Tom calling. She
gave a start. Wa it really growing dusk?
She FASTENED to the house. Her mother
met her at the porch.
Where have you been all this timer
she asked. Then without waiting for al
answer she ran on:
Your father rode the sOrrel colt away
this afternoon. He has not come back. I'm
afraid something has happened to him.
What shall | do?r
Shirley gathered herself up. Her heart
gave a bound, and then stopped with an
awful stiffness.
(which way did he go?' she asked.
Towards LinwOod.'
where's SAM"
Sam has gone TO q negro wedding, and
and won't be back tonight"
The children gathered around while they
talked, and watched Shirley with frighten-
ed, pleading eyes. 1t was Smiley they all
turned to in their troubles, even then. See
was herself in a moment, the good, brave
daughter again.
"Getthe pony, Tom, and come with ME,
she said.
She went the stable and saddled Pencil
ope, Ulysses mate. In five minutes she
and Tom were on the road TO Linwood.
Through the gathe, ing gloom they sped
like the wind. By the light streaming
from the window they discerned Il group
of persons at the door of Simpkius' grocery.
4 small boy was telling something to the
rest, throwing his arms about in excite
ment. 1t was the baby tramp, little Rip.
Shirley heard these words:
HE spoke to me sassy, and he says,
| Stop. there, you little devil Gee! but
he said it sassy. Then he kicked his heels
into his horses sides, an he spoke to him
like he waS the boss, and told him to 60 on.
But the horse shook his head to tell him
he wouldn't. Then the horse jumped on
his hind legs like this, and fell over. Thu
man was thrOwed into the road. Tn
horse didn't get mp again, and the man
didn't get mp again. They're layin' out
there in the road yet, you bet!'
Shirley listened with pale lips. at is
my fathern she exclaimed. where was
it, boy?'
ont there" said the child, Jerking his
thumb over his shoulder.
Its out on the State Line turnpike.
Come, Tom, quick"
She was off again, like the wind.
Good Lord, twas Colonel CarstOne!'
exclaimed Mis- SimpkinS. What if she
goes out alone in the dark and finds her
father dead? Men! follow her quick"
Friendly souls, half a dozen stalwart
men, pursued the girl rs rapidly ~ they
might on horseback. A wagon was hastily
got in readiness and sent after.
Never again had Shirley 4 ride like that.
She was a'strOng, hopeful girl, and always
looked at the bright side. But now she
was overwhelmed with an awful PRESENT.
ment of something, she knew not what.
From the first moment she expected the
| worst.
FOur miles out from LinwOOl the state
| Line passed through n wide, lonely valley,
wooded at the sides and tTinged with Il
dense, damp underground Of bushes. 1t
was the middle of June. The sky was
overcast with blackness so that scarcely Il
star shOne. Yet the valley was lit by ten
million lamps. An innumerable swarm of
~fircilieS danced above the underground.
The damp air was on glow of intermitting,
phOSphOresccnt light. Never before, or At
terward, did Shirley see ~tiretles in such a
CLEAN of splendor. In after years she never
looked at one of these light bringing crea-
lures that it did not recall that night.
Into the heart Of this valley, into the
hlarkuess set off by millions of iniintesi-
nal, tlickering stars: into the loneliness
and silence, Shirley and her young brother
rode. They saw two mOtionleSs, fOrmleSs
| objects lying dark against the dim, white
turnnike, A namclcSs terror clutched their
young hearts with IN icy hand. Tom gave
a cry which was echoed back from the hill
sides.
They d%iSmOuntel. The friendly riders
that g~alloped up a little later fround Shir-
lev sitting in the middle of the lonlcy road
with something in her lap, unknowingly
Swaving back and forth, and moaning:
so my father! Ny father"
Little Tom stood close beside her, hold
ing the horses, and weeping bitterly. II
was Il sight to weaken the stOutcst hearts.
Aud still the myriad ~iireilicS danced up
and down, and CLEANED through the black
ness with theiI quivcring, weird sparklcs.
II was the thOmghtfulncsS of little Mis-
Simpkins that sent the doctor down the
road. He examined the cold, senseIess
form.
"He is not dead" he told them. "Hc
is still breathing, Lift him INTO the wagon.
There, Careful! Get back and give him
air. Shirley, get in, and hold your fathers
head on your lap. Jim Sweet, lead her
horse aud mine. | will 90 in the wagon,
too"
So, through the the darkness, the mourn
FIJI train headed toward the stone house.
Gentle and kindly, if rough hands, LAID
Colonel CarstOnc in his own bed that night.
His wife wept and mOaned as one hercit of
her senses. Ii was Shirley who directed
the men where Ia place him; Shirley who
took the doctors directions and listened to
his verdict; Shirley who sat beside her
fathers couch and watched with shaTpened
cvesight for signs of returning conscious
ness.
The patient had suffered conclusion Of
the brain, and WAS i'll Il state OF stupCr.
How severe the injury WAS could not be AS
vet asccrtaintd. All night Shirley sat
there. At daylight the rustic nelghbors
and people from the village poured into
the house. The porch was full OF them:
They gathered in the broad Railways and
peered over one another shoulders through
the door and windows. Here was an event,
something ont of the usual. They were
making the most of it, like a Fourth OF
July or suicide. There was nobody to
keep them off.
As the sun began to climb the heavens,
the injured man stirred family. The first
row OF the gaping crew reported the fact
duly to the row behind, and 80 the report
spread through the ranks Struggling on
the outskirts was tow-headed Hughle-Car-
ter, little Mis- Simpkins' nephew. That
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